When four-thirty rolls around, we see Amelio bobbing on the water. Adam waves and we pack up, making our way to the dock as he slowly pulls in.
We board. My skin is full of salt water and sunscreen, and my cover-up is tucked in my bag. I haven’t put it on once.
“Nice?” Amelio asks.
“The best,” I say. “I think I might move here.” I imagine a life full of endless beach days.
As we pull away from La Fontelina, I see the rocks of Faraglioni ahead. A few boats are passing under. A couple kisses in the archway.
“Would you like to go?” Amelio asks.
Adam looks to me. “Sure,” he says. We’re on the leather front of the boat. He sits up and slides his arms around his knees. “I feel I should give you the full Capri experience.”
My heart starts pounding. I have no idea what he means by that. Does he want me to see the nature-made architectural wonder, up close? Or is he going to kiss me under those rocks? What’s the full experience?
The thump of my pulse gets louder and louder like approaching horses. I feel the question hang there between us as we drive toward the rocks.
Once we’re close, Amelio slows the engine. Adam stretches his legs out in front of him and leans back on his hands. He tilts his head to the side to look at me. But he doesn’t move his body, not yet.
“Here go!” Amelio calls.
We begin to pull through the archway. There is a cool breeze off the water, and we’re surrounded by rocks. I sense Adam close to me, closer than he was mere moments ago. I sense his skin—salty, warm—and the brush of his clothing.
We’re fully encapsulated now. The moment hovers around us like an air bubble, threatening to pop.
“Katy,” Adam says. His voice is barely above a whisper, and I turn to him. He’s looking at me with so much intensity I think he’s going to kiss me. He’s really going to do it. The seconds crawl by like years. Time, doubled over, lapsed, like it is here, now, doesn’t hold the same weight. It doesn’t mean the same thing. We are young and we are old and we are coming and going, all at once.
We’re almost out. I can see the sun begin to crest, straining to meet us. It’s now or never.
And then Adam takes my hand. He takes my palm and presses his palm against it, interlacing his fingers with mine. He keeps it there as we pull back out, into the sunshine.
“Beautiful!” Amelio calls.
“Beautiful,” Adam says, still looking at me.
Chapter Twenty-One
I don’t see Carol the next day, either, and two days later, Adam takes me to Naples. One of his favorite places, he claims, in all of Italy.
“A lot of people don’t love it,” Adam tells me. “Tourists rarely visit. But I think Naples is one of the most beautiful places in the world. Plus, it’s the best pizza you’ll ever be lucky enough to eat.”
“Better than Mozza? We shall see.”
“How can you beat where it all started?” he says.
We get a car from the hotel after breakfast. A convertible that feels straight out of the 1950s. This time, Adam drives. The views out of town are just as stunning as the ones coming into it.
“I think I want to live here forever,” I say.
Adam smiles. “It’s why I keep coming back.”
“I’m not sure that’s a reality for me,” I say.
“It is if you’d want it to be.”
“That’s really what you believe? Anyone could just live on the Amalfi Coast if they want to hard enough?”
“Hey,” Adam says. “Settle. That’s not what I mean. I just mean you could, if you wanted to. We’re not talking about anyone. We’re talking about you.”
“You don’t actually know that,” I say.
Adam turns to look at me. “I guess I’ve got to get to know you better, then. Good thing we have all day.”
When we pull off of the coastal part of the drive, and are about twenty minutes out from Naples, Adam gives me a brief history of the place.
“Naples is a strange city,” he says. “It’s in tatters in some places, absolutely run-down, but there’s also this persevering Mediterranean beauty, almost Grecian. It was the most bombed Italian city in World War Two and has a largely tragic history—a huge cholera epidemic, poverty, crime—but there’s this strength to this place and its people. I find that beauty next to decay is its own kind of stunning. You can really feel it when you’re there.”
“I also heard it’s a town known for its pickpockets,” I say. I remember reading it in a travel guide.